Guy Maddin’s film My Winnipeg is the last movie I watched on my TV before it left for its new home. It is such a personal movie about home that it is a fitting start to my imagination recovery project. Besides the personal, there is a whole heaping dose of the creative as well. Usually Maddin is too esoteric for me. He’s one of those filmmakers whose wavelength you have to catch, and if you don’t, you are looking slack-jawed and glassy eyed wondering what the F* is this guy going on about?

I caught the rhythm of the stanzas that make up this visual poem. A young man trapped in the cold north, townsfolks who possess “just the right amount of wrong,” as a friend would say, and a city with some stunning moments in its history. But the glue that holds together the personal with the history of the city is Maddin’s own dysfunctional childhood. Hiring actors to recreate scenes from his childhood, he hopes that seeing them again will allow him adult insight into childhood hurts. Black and white, fantastic, and certainly pushing the boundaries of documentary, I’m actually surprised there wasn’t more of a discussion last year when the film was out about how it fits into the documentary canon. But, it’s also nice that people overwhelming appreciated the film and didn’t care to argue the labeling.

I’m happy this was the last movie I watched on my television set because last night, I was thinking about it and getting ideas for all of the possible projects I could start, or pick up where I left off with. My Winnipeg is such a beautiful collage of the personal combined with the historical, it almost sets a bar (for me, at least) for self-expression. Yes, it’s great to exorcise demons but great art is rarely personal only.

Barbara has lived in my building since I got to Austin. For those who know me,  you’ve probably heard me go on and on about my building and the people who live here. I’m experiencing the exact opposite relationship to Austin as Maddin’s relationship to Winnipeg. We both feel drawn in but I feel embraced, warm, supported, and a big part of that is this place I live. It’s a little like a band aid being ripped from skin for Barbara to be leaving. She’s moving to Israel no less. But, she’s started a wonderful blog about this major move. She’s posted a few times now, which give background to her decision and she will continue to chronicle as she makes her way in her new home.

I started to make big changes in my life by moving to Austin and this new aspect (no television), is simply another decision to move me closer to who I want to be. I’m so excited for Barbara because I know that she is moving to where she needs to be to realize herself. It takes a lot of courage to make such a big change.

My family had flown into Ben-Gurion International Airport on an overnight flight from London where we had attended a Bar Mitzvah.  It was dawn, and I was tired and jet-lagged.  Alan, who travels to Israel on business, took care of all the necessary luggage and paperwork.

As I stood back in Customs, getting my bearings, I surveyed the area. The room was crowded with the arrival of people from every part of the world.  Jewish families from many different countries, speaking numerous languages, religious and secular alike, were all together.

An overwhelming sense of belonging swept over me that I had never felt before.  An internal longing I’d incessantly known ceased in that moment.  I knew I would make Aliyah.  I knew that, on this day, as I waited in the Customs line; I could foresee with complete clarity I would one day be cleared through Customs to make my way home.  I hadn’t even been to the Kotel, the cafes or the beaches yet! From Into Israel by Barbara Permilla Roth >>

Barbara introduces another aspect of art, which is the spiritual. I wish My Winnipeg had touch on meaning a bit more. After all, Guy Maddin is a very successful filmmaker. The film portrays cynicism and a healthy disdain for his city. I think Maddin has appreciation for Winnipeg, otherwise, why make a movie about it? But I wish he had included a stanza on the something he loved about his town. It’s tough to feel too sorry for him in the context of his larger career and body of work.

Anyways, it’s onwards for Barbara, me and probably for Guy too.